


it’s easy to get lost in rome

by faeblesmith



Series: tell me where to begin, because i never ever felt so much [2]
Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Meet-Cute, No Plot/Plotless, i think it’s cute anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeblesmith/pseuds/faeblesmith
Summary: Joanna, Elizabeth, and Jack are in Rome for another leg of their world exploration. Joanna is left to her own devices, and she meets Romina.the context is uhhhh not available, just take my word for it that this is set in 1991, and liz n jo are slowly travelling the world along w elizabeth’s bf jack
Relationships: Joanna (Bill & Ted)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: tell me where to begin, because i never ever felt so much [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032000
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	it’s easy to get lost in rome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigfeetbiggersocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfeetbiggersocks/gifts), [leilabug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leilabug/gifts).



> you can hear more abt jack [ here ](https://faeblesmith.tumblr.com/post/639003237794578432/lets-hear-some-jack-hcs-dude) and [ here ](https://faeblesmith.tumblr.com/post/639005428849721344/liz-and-jack-hcs)
> 
> «dialogue» means they’re talking in italian but idk italian or the correct turns of phrase so sorry if it’s not a good representation  
> “dialogue” is english

Rome is not exactly what Joanna remembers. The religious center is quite similar to her memory, though she had only visited once, but the rest of the city is new and mildly terrifying, especially now that she’s on her own. Of course, Elizabeth and Jack had asked before leaving her alone, but she’d wanted a moment away, and they wanted to be alone, so she’d told them that yes, of course, she doesn’t mind exploring on her own. While it wasn’t a lie, Joanna now regrets it, as she’s a touch lost, though still quite near the Piazza del Popolo… She thinks. Of course, as a child Jo had learned how to navigate her way home if she was lost in the wild, but she had quickly learned that navigating twentieth century cities was nothing like navigating the sixteenth century forests of England. 

At first, being lost was quite fun. Jo found herself going into stores she might have otherwise ignored, looking at trinkets and feeling the fabrics of modern clothing. By the second hour, she was getting a little annoyed, not to mention hungry, but she knew if she stopped in for food, she’d find herself  _ more _ lost, having forgotten which direction she came from. Now it’s hour three, and Joanna is beginning to verge from annoyed to distressed. She can, if she’s careful about where she stands, see an obelisk in the distance, but it seems that no matter how far she walks, it never gets any closer. Jo checks her watch, before remembering she hasn’t actually learned to read it, then glances up to find the sun. Probably just past midday, which is a fairly reasonable time for lunch, if only she weren’t afraid of turning herself around. 

With a resigned sigh, Jo turns one more corner before stopping dead in her tracks. The people behind her bump into her and swear, and she gives them a quiet apology before stumbling to the side and out of the way. Crouched on the ground, surrounded by (and covered in) colorful chalk is  _ the most _ beautiful girl Joanna has ever seen. She’s mesmerized by the girl’s movements, unable to so much as blink in case she turns out to be a figment. She’s got charms and jewels twisted into her curls, and they glint in the sunlight, like an angel’s halo. Joanna wants to just swallow her fear and talk to her, compliment the colorful recreation of the Mona Lisa beneath her, ask how she got those charms to stay in her hair, offer her something for hands, which, even from a distance, look chapped from the chalk dust. Someone walks up to the girl and watches her for a moment before dropping a few coins into the cup at the edge of her piece and continuing on their way. 

_ Well,  _ Joanna thinks to herself,  _ I could do that.  _ So, she digs through her skirt pockets looking for a few coins, and comes away with a handful of gum wrappers, three American dollars worth of change, a cassette tape, and the necklace she had been looking for that morning. Joanna gnaws on her lower lip as she watches the girl stand and check her work. She’s got on a long skirt with more charms and a pair of colorful, chunky boots. As she stares at the art under her feet, the girl pulls back her hair and holds it at the nape of her neck. Her hands are covered in chalk dust and leave swirls of color on her dark hair. Her fingers are filled with rings and her wrist covered in bracelets, all of which tangle on her curls. Joanna takes a deep breath and grounds herself. 

She approaches slowly, occupying her hands with untangling the necklace she had found. Up close Jo can smell stale cigarettes and something sweet on her, and this flash of humanity is enough to ground her and bolster her courage. Not looking up from the sidewalk art, Joanna says,

«It is a perfect copy.» The girl next to her startles and looks up at Joanna. And she does look  _ up. _ Joanna is not tall, not by any stretch of the imagination, but in her heels the top of this girl’s head barely reaches Joanna’s shoulder. 

«Fuck,» the girl says pleasantly. «You move pretty quiet for someone in heels.» Joanna feels her face heat and she focuses her attention on the necklace in her hands, which just seems to be getting more and more tangled the longer she struggles with it. A little like how she just seems to be getting more and more lost the longer she walks the streets of Rome. «Thanks, by the way,» the girl adds when she realizes that Jo wasn’t going to say anything else. «Do you need help with that?» 

At this, Joanna finally looks at the girl next to her. She motions to the necklace hanging from Joanna’s fingers and gives her a bemused little smile. Jo clears her throat and passes the necklace over. She can’t quite get any words out, but looks more closely at the girl. She’s got some sort of leather strap contraction around her neck and chest on top of a lacy cropped tank top; it reminds Joanna of a horse’s harness, which is a strange mental image. The bracelets all seem to be leather and string, hand made and frayed around the edges. The girl’s earrings seem to be tape from a cassette. Joanna thinks she might be in love. The girl hands back the now perfect necklace with a grin, just as Jo finds her voice again. 

«Thank you, I had left it in my pocket.» The girl’s eyes go comically wide and she begins to laugh. Her lips are a deep purple that Jo is going to see in her dreams for the rest of her life. 

«Why do you talk like that?» This time it’s Jo who startles, blinking quickly as her fingers trip over the delicate clasp. «Oh, don’t look like that! It’s practically  _ archaic _ , the way you talk.» And Joanna can’t help but smile. 

«My education was, um,» she pauses, knitting her brows as she tries to think of a way to say ‘practically medieval’ without telling this girl everything she’s ever done. «It was exceptionally old-fashioned.» The girl grins at her again, scuffing the toe of her boot against the edge of her street art. 

«What’s your name, then?»

“Um… Joanna,” The girl nods, and her curls bounce around her face and she loops her arm through Jo’s. 

«I’m Romina,» she says.  _ Romina _ , Joanna thinks.  _ Romina, Romina, Romina. _ «Are you a tourist then?»

“Oh! Yes, ah, si, um…” And then Joanna is giggling and pressing a hand to her mouth and, as if swept up in Jo’s nervous energy, Romina is laughing with her and tugging on Jo’s arm and nodding down the street. «Oh! You are going to leave your supplies?»

«They’ll be okay. Where are you from, Joanna?» Romina asks as they begin to wander, still arm-in-arm. Jo relaxes into the touch and slides her necklace back into her pocket. If it got tangled again, maybe she would have to seek out Romina again to fix it. 

«The English Isle, originally. I currently reside in California, America.» Romina scrunches her nose and bobs her head from side to side. 

« _ The English Isle, _ » she repeats, mimicking Joanna’s accent and outdated dialect, and Joanna laughs. Hearing it repeated back to her does make her sound a little ridiculous. «Any relation to the queen, then?» Joanna’s cheeks hurt from smiling and when they turn the corner she’s looking down the street at the Piazza Del Popolo. With a sigh tinged with disappointment she says,

«Yes, though quite a distant relation.» She does not mention that she is a good deal older than the sitting queen, and was set to be a queen herself one day. Before they reach the square, Joanna pulls Romina to the side and quickly asks,

«Would you like to go to lunch with me, Romina?» Romina’s face lights up. She digs a cigarette out of her pocket and lights it up with a grin. 

«I guess that depends,»

«Upon?»

«Are you asking me on a date, Joanna from The English Isle?» Joanna’s face heats and she looks away, towards the obelisk. She thinks she can see Jack and Elizabeth, but she can’t be sure. With a tentative resolve, she looks back to Romina. 

“Yes,” Joanna smiles down at her. “I am, yes.”

And so, they go to lunch. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me anywhere @ faeblesmith
> 
> more to come for these two as well as liz and jack :)))


End file.
